


The Word of the Body

by redmorningstar



Series: Anatomy of Desire [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Azure Moon Route, Companion Piece, Depression, Desk Sex, F/M, Feels, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Jealousy, Lack of Communication, Mentioned Blue Lions Students (Fire Emblem), Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Oblivious, Oral Sex, POV Outsider, Pining, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Behavior, Post-Time Skip, Romance, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:49:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23476483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redmorningstar/pseuds/redmorningstar
Summary: As Dimitri left the Professor in the library, the full implications of what had transpired dawned on him. He cursed himself for being irresponsible and promising things that he had no right to once again. He was a killer who hardly deserved to stand before her and still, he had brashly offered to be her lover. And yet she had agreed; she had saidall right....He didn’t have words for the feeling that lodged in his chest, somewhere at the core of him. It was simply a messy tangle of desire and greed, possession and adoration. Once the door was opened, he did not know what that dark thing would become; perhaps it would consume them both.-Dimitri POV companion piece forThe Anatomy of Desire.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth
Series: Anatomy of Desire [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1689073
Comments: 66
Kudos: 321





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, thank you to everyone to read, left kudos, and left comments on [The Anatomy of Desire](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21791167/chapters/51997732). It has been my most popular story to date and the response to that story has been beyond anything I ever expected or hoped for. I'm truly and deeply grateful for the love I have been shown by the fandom.
> 
> I wrote this companion piece, partly because I had more story to tell, but also as a gift for everyone who encouraged me while I was writing the last one. I hope this satisfies. Please continue letting me know what you think - as ever, kudos and comments are ♥ .
> 
> (If you haven't read Anatomy of Desire, I suggest you start there, because I don't think this fic will make as much sense without it.)

As Dimitri left the Professor in the library, the full implications of what had transpired dawned on him. He cursed himself for being irresponsible and promising things that he had no right to once again. He was a killer who hardly deserved to stand before her and still, he had brashly offered to be her lover. And yet she had agreed; she had said _all right_. Dimitri clenched his hand into a fist. The Professor hardly knew what she was saying yes to, _could_ not know… and if she did, she would hate him for it. Somehow she had forgiven him for all the pain and hurt he had wrought until now, but there were limits to a human’s benevolence. He should stop their relationship before it became inextricable. She was already his teacher, his ally, his friend; to add lover to that list was nothing less than foolish. To be her lover would be to risk ruining everything good between them on a moment of pleasure.

Dimitri closed his eye, covering his face with a shaking hand, and breathed. Goddess, who was he fooling? It wasn’t simply that. Not even close. Not for _him_. He didn’t have words for the feeling that lodged in his chest, somewhere at the core of him. It was simply a messy tangle of desire and greed, possession and adoration. Once the door was opened, he did not know what that dark thing would become; perhaps it would consume them both.

The thought was more painful than he could bear. No, if he could keep that despicable element from her, then he could give her all she desired. He could be what she needed. Perhaps he could even be enough. _And it will be enough for me_ , he vowed to himself.

-

Having the Professor in his arms was beyond anything he could have ever imagined; her lips were soft, her breath sweet, her touch burning. Despite the battles she had been through, her skin was smooth and unbroken. By contrast, Dimitri’s body was a canvas of scars, some faded and white, others deep and rough under her hands. He had never worried about the sight of them before but now under her gaze, he wondered if they were ugly to her. Even so, she didn't stop touching him. She didn’t close her eyes or turn her face away. She pulled him closer. She _kissed_ him.

After Dimitri had come at her touch, he felt some embarrassment at the mess he had made of her hand and wrist. The Professor was looking at it with such a peculiar expression on her face that he almost apologised but the words died on his lips when she brought her hand to her mouth to lick it clean. Truth be told he was curious too, about the smell of her on his fingers and the slick she had left on his palm but hadn’t indulged, thinking that it might disgust her. And here she was, tasting his own spend from her hand, her expression simply curious. She was going to be the death of him, that he knew without a doubt.

Now she was resting with her head on the same pillow as him, an indecipherable expression on her face. Dimitri didn’t know what words to say, though there must have existed words for moments like these. “Professor…” He stopped himself with a wince. It didn’t seem right to call her that in private like this. He was not her student and she was not his teacher; here within these four walls, they were simply a man and a woman. “I want- Can I-” He cleared his throat, trying not to stumble over his words. “Can I call you by name?” Dimitri asked, at last. She nodded amusement dancing in her eyes. “Byleth, then,” he said if only to test the name on his tongue, more intimate than before. She looked pleased at the sound of it, a measure of warmth coming alive in her face.

“I…” Byleth paused, appearing to search for her words. "It feels… different with another person. I never knew it could feel like _that_ ,” she admitted at last. Oh, it hadn't occurred to Dimitri that he was her first. The knowledge made him feel pleased and unworthy all at once. _She chose_ _me_ , he thought to himself with undeserved pride. _For now,_ he reminded himself curtly. As the heat of desire abated somewhat, his rational mind was making all its objections known to him again. He wondered what Byleth would do now. Would she leave? Would she stay? He both craved and dreaded the answer.

Against all his expectations, Byleth shifted closer, until she was half on top of him, the curtain of her hair falling over him like a veil. Without a word she kissed him again, erasing all other thoughts save ones of her. “Are you tired, Dimitri?” She asked when they parted, her voice tender over the syllables his name. He had never had the opportunity to observe her at such close quarters before; the subtle play of emotions on her face was riveting.

“No,” he replied, thinking only of her lips, her body pressed against his, “not at all.” Her smile was warm and hushed like a secret.

“Me neither.”

-

The next morning they both woke in the early hours before dawn, intending to bathe and prepare for the day before the rest of the monastery roused. At the sight of her climbing naked from his bed, he had been sorely tempted to pull her back into his arms, to taste her skin until he was satisfied, everyone else be _damned_. He hadn’t, of course, instead hiding his clenched fists beneath the sheet to prevent them from betraying him.

“I’ll see you later,” Byleth told him with a smile before slipping out the door quietly, leaving Dimitri alone with the memory of her still lingering in the folds of his mind and bed. 

Dimitri found his thoughts overrun by Byleth throughout the day. He had thought of her often enough before, but now the thoughts intruded when he least expected it and tended towards indecent more than not. Now that he knew the feel of her mouth, the touch of her hand, and how it felt to make her shudder and shake, he could never look at her the same way again. He wondered more than once if she was feeling the same way, if last night had affected her as it had affected him. When he had caught her eyes after the war council meeting, the look of desire there had made his mouth go paper dry. Dimitri knew that look, it was the same one he had seen on his own face in the mirror this morning, the same one he had been trying to conceal all day.

That night, Dimitri waited for her as he had promised. Despite it all, the anxious feeling was back again and he wondered if Byleth would choose him a second time, if she would _keep_ choosing him. For as long as she asked and as long as she sought him out, he would never refuse her. How _could_ he? There was a knock at his door; when he opened it Byleth was standing outside. At the sight of her, his hands moved without his conscious thought, reaching for her on instinct alone. He should have said a greeting, a pleasantry of some kind, _something_ instead of simply crowding her against the door the moment it was closed and pressing their mouths together in an open and hungry kiss.

“Good evening,” Dimitri said when they parted at last, breathless and many moments too late. Byleth huffed a small laugh against his lips.

“Hello,” she said, and then her arms were around his neck, pulling him close again into another kiss; he needed no encouragement. Dimitri had known since the moment they had met that Byleth was beautiful. He had been preoccupied with many things during his time at Garreg Mach as a student but he hadn’t been blind. Now seeing Byleth laying before him against the sheets of a bed that smelled of them both, she was not simply beautiful, she was something else: a _revelation_.

-

Dimitri was surprised when Sylvain stayed back after the war council to speak with him, but perhaps that should have been his first warning sign. “You’ll never guess who I saw entering your room last night,” he said in a sing-song.

“Sylvain,” Dimitri said warningly, though it did nothing to deter his friend’s wide grin.

“The _Professor_ ,” he revealed with relish. Dimitri sighed; he could feel a headache building behind his eyes already.

“That is not so odd, Sylvain. We often have cause to see each other for one reason or another,” he said, longsuffering, and hoped dearly that Sylvain would drop the issue.

“That’s what I thought, too, except that I’d seen her there the night before. And the night before _that_ as well.” Dimitri looked at his friend critically; why his friend saw fit to apply himself in these matters rather than more important ones would always bewilder him.

“What’s your point?” He asked at last, sharply. The last thing he wanted was to put into words what existed between himself and Byleth, least of all because he hardly knew what to call it himself. Sylvain held up his hands placatingly.

“Now, I know that look. No knocks to the head,” Sylvain said hastily. “I justwanted to say that I’m happy for you.” Dimitri stayed silent, not wanting to admit or refute any of it. “Hey, remember when we were students? And you were being chased by a girl because I encouraged you to loosen up?”

“All too well,” Dimitri responded drily. Sylvain put his hand over his own heart, a sincere look on his face.

“I said you could rely on me when it comes to these things and you _can_. If you want to talk, I’m here for you. And I won’t tell a soul, so don’t worry about that.” It was easy to forget that under his flippant nature, Sylvain was capable of being serious and earnest and loyal because it happened so rarely. Strangely, this appeared to be one of those rare times. At least that was something, Dimitri supposed.

“Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“But…” Sylvain continued and it seemed he could not help himself after all because here was the mischievous look again, “If you have any questions about good lines or _techniques_ you want to learn…” Dimitri resisted the urge to throttle him; he could think of nothing he wanted less than to discuss _technique_ with Sylvain. What he wanted was to teach his irresponsible friend a lesson.

“Actually, there’s one thing I would ask of you,” he said after a moment of consideration.

“Just say the word,” Sylvain said, beaming.

“How is your lance training going?"

“Ah.” Sylvain winced. “Dimitri, my old friend, just when I think you might have loosened up a bit, you go ahead and prove me wrong.” Dimitri clapped his friend on the shoulder, perhaps a touch harder than necessary.

“Come now, the evening is still young. And perhaps a good training session will help you sleep at night, rather than monitoring the comings and goings of our dorm hallway.”

-

That month Dimitri’s nights were filled with her. Byleth came to him again and again, and every time they were together it opened something deeper within him. Catherine had once called him greedy. It must have been true because that was how Dimitri felt when he looked at Byleth.

"Dimitri," she said, her voice half breathless, "you're _teasing_ me." Not on purpose, rather he had simply become distracted by chasing the taste and smell of her, headiest here in the valley between her legs. Dimitri never had cause to lament his sense of taste, or lack thereof, until now. His only regret was that he could not fully taste how ripe she was; he could lap at the ocean inside her for ages and still never be satisfied.

“I didn’t mean to,” he murmured, distractedly. He slipped a finger inside, stroking her shallowly at first, then further to the knuckle. Byleth whimpered, before bringing a hand to her mouth to stifle herself. Goddess, Dimitri wished she would cry out, he would make her scream if he could, but here was not the place for that, not unless they wanted to wake the whole monastery. He pressed his mouth back against her, every bitten off sound spurring him on. Byleth started to move her hips hesitantly, little cants of her hips to take his fingers deeper and _yes_ , like that, let her take from him what she needed. Dimitri knew now that it had been foolish to ever think that he could have _enough_ of her; the dark thing within him knew only a hunger without end.

But it was not simply her body he hungered for: her smiles, her time, her affection — he hoarded every moment of her with unseemly possessiveness. The times when Byleth would lay nestled in his arms, boneless and languid, as they spoke about everything and nothing; Dimitri craved those quieter moments as much as any other part of being lovers. When this was over, he would miss them the most.

-

In truth, Dimitri had been foolhardy to disobey Byleth's orders. He had thought to end this skirmish quickly by reaching the commander first, but he had underestimated the tenacity of their fighting force. Though the commander was dead and the battle all but won, he could barely stand under the weight of his wounds. He swayed on unsteady feet, lightheaded and vision blurring. Perhaps he had lost more blood than he thought. Within moments, Byleth was at his side. Magic spilled from her outstretched hands to flow over his wounds, knitting the worst of the stinging cuts to his flesh.

"Don't you _ever_ do that again. Do you hear me, Dimitri?" Her eyes were blazing bright green, as angry as he had ever seen her, the incarnation of an avenging angel. "You're _mine_ ," she said through gritted teeth. "I won't let you go so easily." Yes, he was hers, gladly. Goddess, she was beautiful. He swayed towards her, a smile on his lips, half addled from pain and blood loss.

"Even when you are furious, you are _mesmerising_ ," he confided to her, the words slipping out before he could stop them. His teasing made her eyes narrow even further. One of her hands gripped the front of his cloak and she pulled him towards her into a hard and desperate kiss. In her kiss he could taste blood; whether it was hers or his own he could not tell, perhaps a combination of the two, and the thought of it pleased him far more than it should have. When she pulled back, he thought he saw tears standing out in her eyes. For _him_. “Have you come to care for me?” He asked, wonderingly. Dimitri did not have time to hear an answer before his vision grew dark at the edges and he slumped forward into her arms.

When Dimitri awoke he was lying in the infirmary, sunlight streaming in from the window over his battered and aching body. He was still alive, somehow. He scanned his surroundings before his gaze settled on Byleth sitting by his bedside, her mouth a tight unhappy line. For a long moment, neither spoke.

“Dimitri, this has to stop,” she said, at last, and while he had survived the battle, perhaps this would kill him instead. “Ever since I've known you, you have fought like you have nothing to lose. Like you don't care whether you live or die. Like you don’t believe anyone would care if you did.” Byleth looked at him with eyes that pierced into the soul of him. “No more, Dimitri.” He swallowed around the lump in his throat, wishing he could swallow the truth away with it, but he knew he couldn’t. 

“As always, people have to tell me again and again. You, Gustave, Rodrigue, Dedue…” Dimitri breathed through a pain that was more than the sum of his wounds, through the ache in his chest that had been there for as long as he could remember. He had heard it all before. “Some days, I can put it behind me. The weight of living does not press down so hard. And other days… I can barely breathe from it.” He pressed the heel of his hand to his eye to avoid seeing the disappointment in her face. “I cannot promise that I won’t feel that way again… I wish that I could.” He could hardly bring himself to look at her face and see her reaction to his words. “I’m sorry, I know it is my own weakness for feeling this way-”

“No, Dimitri, it’s…” When he looked up from his hand, her expression was full of grief. “I’m the one who is sorry."

“Why?” He asked, confused by her apology and the heartbroken look on her face.

“Because I made you feel like you were not doing enough. You are not weak. I am simply… scared for you.” Byleth shook her head, her mouth no longer tight but trembling now. “It’s... hard for me to understand… how you must feel, sometimes.”

“Oh, Byleth, I would not want you to.” To understand would be to know that darkness that haunted his dreams and waking moments; Dimitri would not wish that on anyone. While he could not fully relieve her of her concern for him, but he could offer her one thing. “I can promise you this: I will not give up on life. After all, I decided to live for what I believe in, remember?”

“Yes, I remember,” she murmured, softly. Her fingers found his wrist and pressed there gently. “How could I forget?” He turned his hand until he could tangle their hands together lightly. They were both trying. For a long moment, there was no sound except for the distant noises of the monastery as people went about their daily business. It surprised him yet again how Dimitri could find a measure of peace by simply being near her. 

“How long was I asleep?” He asked, eventually.

“A full day. And you are to rest at least a day more on doctor’s orders." Another day in bed. He made a face; he did not want to wait that long.

“Can a doctor order a King to rest? I am simply curious.”

“She can when she has the backing of the acting Archbishop, I believe,” Byleth told him, with a small smile. Dimitri had to chuckle at that, then wince as he felt his ribs creak at the movement. No, he wasn’t going anywhere for a while longer at least. Byleth sighed, looking regretful. “I’m sorry but I have to leave you for now. Dedue let me speak to you first, but I believe he has his own words to say to you.”

"Ah.” Dimitri had expected as much. Hopefully, his friend would go easy on him, given that Byleth had already given him a talking to, but somehow he doubted it.

“I’ll come by later and let you know the outcome of the war council meeting.” Dimitri nodded and let her hand slip from his. Suddenly, Byleth was very near. It was the second time she had kissed him openly in the light of day, where anyone could see them if they cared to look. He sighed against her mouth. It made him feel impossibly light, like his body made of air, not a mass of knotted flesh and bone. All too soon, it was over, and yet the lightness lingered.

After she had left, Dimitri remembered her words to him on the battlefield. Even if it had been born of adrenalin or fear for him, even so, he would carry that moment inside of him into battle, for the rest of his days, forever.

-

Dimitri had broken the nib of his quill twice in the last hour. He was through with work for today and was now scribbling at reports more as a diversion than anything truly productive. He sat back from his desk with a sigh, listening again for the bell’s toll. Impatience was running through his veins tonight. Byleth had tied her hair up today, exposing the long line of her neck and it was maddening how such a small change could drive him to distraction; he had been unable to think of anything but putting his mouth there ever since. He imagined she would smell clean from the bath, like soap and water, and beneath that her own unique scent. He imagined pulling her into his lap, not bothering to undress or even put out the light, their frantic hands pushing aside their clothing just enough for her to ease herself onto him, open and warm as she sighed his name. He could hold her and press his face against her neck, let her rock against him while he breathed in her smell, the one he adored, like fresh flowers and petrichor. There, he would drown in her.

There was a knock at the door, interrupting his imaginings. The door opened and the scent of perfume reached him first, suffocating and unfamiliar. Oh. Dimitri contained his grimace; a visitor, but not the one he sought. Rather it was one of the young women who worked in the dining hall. He recalled they had spoken a handful of times in passing over the past months, but even so, it was strange for her to call on him this late and quite alone. She stepped into the room and curtsied to him gracefully.

"Your Highness," she said demurely, though her eyes seemed to be watching him rather closely. Dimitri searched his memory for her name.

"...Ilse, was it? It is rather late. Is there something I can help you with?" He asked, polite despite the strangeness of the situation.

"On the contrary, Your Highness, I came to see how you were faring.” Ilse took a step closer, bridging some of the distance between them. “I wish to serve you, Your Highness. If there is anything you desire, I will do everything in my power to accommodate you. Anything at all," she said, her voice low.

“Ah.” Dimitri winced inwardly. In his academy days, he had been naive enough to think nothing of these interactions but now as an older, more insightful man, he could read between those rather obvious lines. It had not happened to him for quite a number of years, though he supposed he had been nigh unapproachable until recently. Still, there was little point in pretending he did not understand the offer for what it was; he knew it was better to cut this off at the head, swiftly. "No, that won’t be necessary,” he told her, firmly. Ilse paused, uncertainty plain on her face.

“I would be happy to return at another time if that would be better, Your Highness?” she offered. Dimitri shook his head, his patience already wearing thin.

“I will be frank with you Ilse. Your services will not be required this night or any other. Instead, let us resolve to continue our acquaintance as we have done.” Dimitri paused, realising that some of his frustration had crept into his voice. “Am I making myself clear?" He said at last, tiredly. Ilse blinked, clearly surprised by his abrupt and cold refusal, before she flushed, cheeks burning red with embarrassment.

"Yes, Your Highness. I will take my leave." She bowed low, hiding her face, before hastily leaving the way she had come in. Dimitri scrubbed his face with his hand. Perhaps he had been harsher than necessary. After all, it was not her fault that he had been wishing for Byleth to be standing in front of him instead of her. It occurred to him that the hour was growing late, much later than usual, and that Byleth had still not appeared. He waited and waited until his candle was burning low, but still, she did not come. It was uncharacteristic of their interactions so far; she had never yet spent the night apart from him without at least saying something. Still from the beginning, Dimitri had given her the option, to take or leave as she saw fit. She did not owe him an explanation.

He reminded himself of this as he lay in his bed waiting for sleep, and the next day when she would not meet his eyes in the strategy meeting, and again in the dining hall when she did not sit with him at the midday meal. Days passed and it soon became obvious that this was no temporary arrangement; she was avoiding him.

Dimitri realised he must have done something wrong, hurt or offended her in some way, but he could not think of _how_. He had no chance to ask either, for she slipped away at any opportunity where they might be alone. _She is sick of you,_ he thought to himself savagely. Her smiles, her time, her affection for him were all gone and every moment of scorn burned him, stoking the flames of his self-doubt. Her absence could only mean one thing: Byleth must have seen the dark tangle that lurked within his heart and been repulsed by it, by _him_ , just as he had known she would be. And Dimitri… he would have to let her go.

Tomorrow, he would ask. Tomorrow, he would hear her answer, whatever it may be, even if it tore him apart.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With everything going on right now, my brain didn't have much room for writing for a time and so getting the second part of this story together took much longer than I anticipated. However, I'm happy to say that today it is finally DONE.
> 
> Thank you for all the encouragement along the way. I've grateful for every comment and kudos, and it certainly helped fuel my passion to finish this. This chapter officially closes this part of the story however, I do plan to post a little bonus interlude from the Blue Lions POV which wrote it in part as thank you for everyone's patience! Expect it in the next week or so (hopefully with no delays).
> 
> As always, I would love to hear what you think of the story - **all comments and kudos are love**.

Dimitri had gotten his answer, though it had not been what he had expected.

_You are the only one I want, Dimitri._

Those damning words had opened the floodgates and now everything he had held back was rushing forth, unabated. What would follow after this? Dimitri did not know. But, here and now, there was no room for those thoughts.

Byleth’s hand was hot in his as they walked from the training hall to her room. The moment her door was closed Dimitri was on her, brushing her hair aside with gentle fingers to press his face against her nape. There was no cloying perfume on her skin, no scent but _hers_ which excited him more than any other. He was painfully hard, had been since they were in the training hall. Goddess, he had _missed_ her. Her hands were at his clothes, pulling at them with urgency. Dimitri hardly registered undressing; all he could focus on was her skin as it was finally revealed to him once more.

He spread her out on the bed, trailing his fingers between her legs, so wet and open from having come once already. He was gluttonous, drunk with desire, he had already made her come before in the training hall and yet…

"Dimitri," Byleth breathed, her voice low and as sweet as wine, "you promised you would make me come again."

 _Yes_ , he had promised. He did not think of anything but that as he bent her legs up, _up,_ until her hips were off the bed and her shoulders were braced against the mattress. From there it took little effort to slip inside, and then he was _there_ , messy and desperate and deep, and she was ushering him on with her heels on his back. Dimitri pressed his thumb against her, desperate for her to come, wanting it more than his own release. Byleth was perfect, giving him everything he wanted and still, he _hungered_. Dimitri would devour her, given the chance; Goddess, she should _not_ give him the chance.

-

The next morning Dimitri left Byleth asleep in her bed, guilt heavy in his gut at how he had acted. Last night he had said he would not hold back any longer, but by the light of day, the sight of the bruises he had left on her filled him with shame and disgust. It only served to remind him once more that his hands were not gentle as a lover’s hands should be; his hands only knew how to take, to kill, to destroy.

Dedue was silent at his side as Dimitri had stalked across the monastery with restless, destructive energy. The other man had been with him since the morning, a stoic figure shadowing his every step; it was _maddening_. By the time they reached the bridge, he had had enough. Dimitri stopped and turned to the other man, frustration in every line of his body. 

“No more of this silence. If you have something to say, then say it,” he snapped. Let Dedue confirm what Dimitri had suspected all along: that he was broken and dangerous and that he should stay far, far away from them all. But Dedue didn’t give him the satisfaction of saying any of those things.

“You are running away again, Your Highness,” Dedue said at last in low tones. The words cut through the fog of anger in Dimitri’s mind, stopping him short.

“What?”

“Whatever burden you carry will never be lifted until you face it.” Dedue met his eyes, an immovable look on his face that Dimitri knew well. “But it does not need to be yours alone.” Dimitri almost laughed. Share the burden? Impossible. Unthinkable. It was a result of his failures and inadequacies and thus his responsibility alone. No, better to hold it close, locked in the dark, until it was all he could think about, until he went mad with it, until his death--

Dimitri clenched his fists, stopping short the dark spiral of his thoughts. _No._ He had promised them all he would be different now. He drew a shaky breath and let the fight leave him.

“You are right, as always,” he said finally. Dedue inclined his head and waited patiently for Dimitri to speak. The words that had haunted him for so long crowded his throat, longing to be released; it was hopeless to resist them any longer. "I am in love with her, Dedue." The admission should have been sweet, but the taste was bitter ashes in his mouth. His love was not the softly spoken words of poets or the sweet songs of bards. No, it was darker and more primal than all those things: demanding, hungry, bottomless. Dimitri had tried not to love her, but it had been as inescapable as the tides. Now it could not be undone.

Dedue did not seem surprised or perturbed by the confession. Instead, he simply met Dimitri’s anguished gaze steadily and asked, “Why does that trouble you?”

“Because all I have to offer is the love of a monster,” Dimitri responded through gritted teeth. “I have clung so tightly to the spectres of my loved ones that I almost lost myself. I have _killed_ out of love. Even now, I want to possess her and never let her go. Tell me Dedue... if that is not monstrous, then what is it?” Byleth deserved someone kind and selfless, someone _whole_. Dimitri knew he could not be any of those things, not anymore. A hand came to rest on his shoulder, the grip hard and unforgiving.

“Your Highness has forgotten the good your love has wrought,” Dedue said with an edge of steel and fire in his tone. “Out of love, you saved the people of Faerghus. Out of love, you protected your allies in the field of battle so they might see a world without war. Out of love, you have stood by a hated man of Duscar all this time. You may feel love strongly, but that does not make it monstrous.” Dedue continued, his tone softer. “Do not deny yourself the love you feel for the Professor. Give her your love freely. I am certain she will accept it, just as I do.” Dimitri turned his face away, hardly able to bear the sincerity in Dedue’s words. Give love freely… how long had it been since he had allowed himself that?

“Dedue, I…” Dimitri trailed off, unsure how to respond, how to even start.

“In return, you must accept it, too. You are deserving of love, Dimitri," his friend said finally. Those kind words struck him like stones; beneath the surface, something fragile crumpled and broke. For nine long years, he had not cared for anything but revenge. It was the only way he could think to avoid losing anyone again. And yet, despite his best efforts, he found himself surrounded once more by people whom he loved and who loved him in return. 

There were no words. He could barely muster the next breath. Dimitri covered his face with a trembling hand as Dedue’s hand relaxed on his shoulder, now a comforting weight grounding him and holding him steady. If there were tears, neither of them drew attention to them.

-

Dimitri arrived at the Cardinal’s Room well before the council meeting, knowing he would find Byleth there already preparing. She was alone in the chamber, standing over a desk of scattered reports and maps, a look of deep concentration on her face. As if sensing his presence, Byleth looked up from her reports to give him a glance and a smile. “Dimitri,” she said, her tone warm, “you’re early.”

“Pay me no mind,” he assured her as he stepped into the room, and then before he could think better of it, “I simply wanted to see you.” Her smile grew a little wider before she returned her attention back to her work. Dimitri took a moment to watch her. As he did, he could feel his heart thudding hard beneath his ribs and an ache rise in his throat, but this time he did not squash it down or pretend it otherwise. Dimitri let himself feel it; he let himself _love_. Now he reached out across the distance between them until his hand rested between her shoulders, his fingertips resting against the skin of her nape, a small gesture he would have denied himself before. Such a simple touch and yet he thought his heart might beat out of his chest as he watched for her reaction.

Byleth did not pull away. She leaned into the touch with a sigh, resting her weight against him more fully. Acceptance, just as Dedue had said. Was this what love could be? Could it be this simple? It beggared belief and yet the proof was right in front of him. In a moment of quiet, wordless wonder, Dimitri permitted himself one more allowance: to think of her no longer as his Professor, or even as Byleth…but to think of her as his beloved.

“Dimitri…” she said after a moment, a curious look on her face.

“Yes?”

“That expression on your face…” Byleth stopped herself with a small laugh. Then, in a poor imitation of his voice, she said, "it's downright _mesmerising_." Dimitri was not sure it was possible to be more in love with someone than he was at that moment. He was close to doing something foolish and improper when someone cleared their throat pointedly behind them. Startled, Dimitri let his hand drop and they both took a half step back from one another.

“Hello Seteth,” Byleth said, turning to her advisor, her expression neutral. Dimitri inclined his head in acknowledgement.

“Your Grace, Your Highness. I hope I am not interrupting.”

“Not at all,” Dimitri replied smoothly. Seteth’s expression betrayed little, though Dimitri thought he saw something akin to amusement in his eyes. When Seteth’s gaze was elsewhere, Byleth mouthed the word _later_ to him silently, a sly tilt to her mouth.

Yes, there would be a time and place later. If he could last that long.

-

With no students currently studying at the monastery, their old Blue Lions classroom had become his office of sorts. Tucked away from the bustle that surrounded the cathedral and dining hall, he often lost track of the hours spent absorbed in troop movements and resource reports. He was also capable of ignoring the pangs of hunger and sleep all too easily. Fortunately, his companions made sure to check on him with strict regularity; it would not have surprised him in the slightest if the Professor had organised some form of roster. Even Felix had been known to drop by, though it was mostly to dispense acerbic comments. It did not bother him; he appreciated the gesture for what it was.

However, today was his favourite interruption of all. "Dimitri, you’ll strain your eye staring at the parchment like that.” Dimitri put his work down to give Byleth his attention, only then noticing how tired his eye had become. As Byleth crossed the room to where he was sitting, he noticed the plate of food in her hands and winced.

“Did I miss lunch?” He asked, apologetic.

“ _And_ dinner,” she told him reprovingly. She set the plate down in front of him, a sandwich put together with the leftovers from the dining hall. “Eat. You’ll need your strength for tomorrow.” He obliged, knowing he wouldn’t get anywhere for resisting. Byleth leaned a hip against the desk, glancing at the papers arranged there while he ate. She sighed. “Sieging Fort Merceus… no matter how much I turn it over in my mind, it will be a long and drawn-out battle.”

“Yes. We can only hope we have not missed anything.”

“We will just have to be flexible when the time comes. Whatever the Death Knight has in store for us will be anything but predictable.” Dimitri had to agree. Once he was finished eating Dimitri sat back, his eyes moving automatically to the fort blueprint. He had already committed each point of entry to memory, but he couldn’t help it. Their army would break through or be broken themselves. Dimitri ran a hand through his hair absently, frowning when it would not stay out of his eyes. Byleth glanced at him questioningly.

“It’s getting too long for my liking,” he said by way of explanation, “I should take a dagger to it. Or better yet, take it all off.”

“You want to upset Gilbert that much?” Amusement danced in her eyes, no doubt remembering the last time Gilbert had lectured him about paying more attention to his public appearance. She tapped a thoughtful finger to her mouth. “Why not tie it up?”

“Like Felix you mean? I think he’d have my head if he thought I was trying to copy him in any way.” Dimitri shuddered to imagine the other man’s reaction and the blood that was certain to be spilled. Byleth laughed.

“That wasn’t quite what I was thinking.” She looked at him consideringly. “Do you mind if I try? You can take it down if you hate it.”

“Not at all.” Byleth pulled a leather band from one of her pockets and walked around the desk to stand behind him. He sighed as her warm gentle hands carded through his hair, untangling it and gathering it up. Every time her fingers dragged across his scalp, he could feel his skin prickling, responding as always to her touch, as automatic as breathing. All too soon, her hands were gone.

"There," Byleth murmured after she had finished, and walked around to look at his face. She had swept away the longer parts of his hair away from his face, though some strands still escaped and fell over his forehead.

“Well? What’s the verdict?” He asked, lightly. “I trust your opinion about this more than my own.” For a moment she watched him without a word, then she was leaning forward to close the space between them. Her mouth was warm and soft, and her tongue was velvet as it ran carefully over his.

“That’s what I think,” Byleth said when they parted for breath at last.

“Oh.” She sat on the edge of the desk and leaned back slightly, the look on her face expectant. It was times like this when he felt distinctly like an instrument of which she was the master; she knew exactly how to play him, to make his blood sing. Dimitri followed her, stepping forward to slot their mouths together again and fitting his body against hers. He could have stayed there for hours, for an age, kissing her in the warm circle of her arms, but Byleth had different plans. Her hands were pulling at him with impatience, the kisses growing deeper and he responded with hands on her hips, lifting her until she was sitting on the desk and he could stand between her legs, _closer_. In short order, her shorts and leggings were rolled down to the floor and her hands had nimbly undone his breeches. When his fingers sought to touch her, she surprised him by pushing his hands away impatiently.

“I've been thinking about this for hours now. So please…” she said, barely a whisper, her cheeks deep red, “I want you inside me.” Goddess. Dimitri was- he couldn’t- Byleth was warm and open and she wanted _him_. He would do as he was commanded. He was _hers_ , after all.

Byleth leaned back with her hands on the desk, angling her body almost languidly, her eyes watching his face with focus. From this angle, Dimitri could watch himself disappear inside her, slow inch by slow inch, and she was watching too, her breath coming in quick, short pants until he was buried so deep he could hardly fathom where he ended and she began. She let out a long breath with something like relief, like satisfaction, like...

Dimitri did not think of himself as a talkative person, but the _things_ he wanted to say when he was with her. Filthy depraved things, words unfit for a king or an archbishop. “I like hearing you talk," Byleth had once told him. "Knowing how you feel, what you are thinking about… I really like it.” That had been a mistake, for now he had even fewer reasons to censor himself. And yet, she never looked disgusted or told him to stop. She only ever said yes, yes, _yes_ with eyes that burned.

“I want to make a mess of you,” Dimitri said now, the words slipping away from him before he could stop them. He felt her nod against his shoulder in wordless agreement. “I want to bury myself inside you and never leave.” One of his hands was on her hip to hold her steady, as the other hiked her other thigh up higher, opening her up further under him. Dimitri moved, taking his time with effort, all the blood in his body replaced with liquid heat. He would fill her to the brim; Byleth had _asked_ him to. He could see her teeth biting in her bottom lip, worrying it plump and red as she breathed and writhed beneath him on the desk, careful to not make a sound. No, it wasn’t right for her to keep those beautiful sounds tucked away. "Let me hear you, Byleth…" At his next thrust, she let out a small moan, quiet, but _Goddess_ it was the most perfect sound. He groaned. "Yes, just like that," he murmured encouragingly. Dimitri leaned forward to lick a stripe against her neck, tasting the salt of her sweat. In the quiet of the classroom, her moans and the wet sound of them moving together were obscenely loud.

“Dimitri,” she whispered, raw and desperate. Her hands were scrabbling at him, holding on, then she was shuddering tight around him with a cry that echoed off the stone walls. He kissed her, swallowing up those cries, and then he was coming, too, the feeling sharp and intense and surprising him with its suddenness. He groaned into her mouth as he spilled inside her and for a moment they were so close that none could prise them apart, the boundary thin and blurred, more one person than not.

Dimitri drew back and the sight of Byleth, her cheeks flushed, her eyes hazy, and her thighs sticky with their mess, was almost too much. “Look at you,” he whispered when he could _breathe_ again. 

-

“What are you playing at, boar?” Felix said, his brusque words ringing out across the empty training hall. Dimitri put down his lance to regard him.

“What are you referring to, Felix?” He asked, carefully neutral. The other man made a face pinched with annoyance.

“You’re changing again," Felix said with a shake of his head. "You were half a man and half a beast, and now you are something else entirely. Now you look like you actually fit the skin you live in.” He paused. “...I don’t _hate_ it.” From Felix, that was practically a commendation. Dimitri paused, considering how to put his thoughts into words.

“You are right, I have changed," Dimitri agreed. “The change I want to bring about could not have been achieved by the person I was before.” He looked down at his hands: scarred, calloused, but _whole_. “Reconciliation. Reform. _Healing_... the people who stay by my side have taught me the meaning of those things.”

“Dedue, Gilbert, and the Professor, you mean,” Felix corrected with a frown. Dimitri shook his head.

“And you.” Felix scoffed dismissively. “It’s true,” he insisted. “You and the others helped put me on the right path. Now it is my task to keep following it.” Felix's eyes were piercing as they searched his face for a hint of a lie. Seemingly satisfied by his answers, he nodded.

“Well, I’ll be there. And know that if you ever stray again, it will be my blade that finds you, not my words.” Dimitri felt the corner of his mouth curl into a small smile.

“That… actually reassures me a great deal. I am grateful to you for that, Felix.” The other man turned his face away to glare at a spot on the wall, seemingly embarrassed by Dimitri’s gratitude.

“The others will be there to keep you in line, too. The Kingdom is our home after all.” Felix shrugged. “All except the Professor, I suppose,” he added, offhandedly. The conclusion should not have shocked Dimitri, but it did somehow. He must not have done a good job of concealing it, because Felix gave him a strange look. “What? Did you think she would remain your teacher once you become king? Don’t be stupid.”

“Of course not.” He was right, of course. Dimitri had simply avoided thinking about any future where she was not ever-present in it. But thinking about it now, he wondered what it would be like to have her by his side, not simply for now, but for the rest of their lives.

“I have to thank you, Felix,” Dimitri said at last. The other man eyed him suspiciously.

“What for?” Dimitri smiled again, a full smile this time.

“You have simply opened my eyes to something new once again,” he said simply. Felix scowled.

“I’ve heard enough of your nonsense.” He picked up a training sword and hefted it in Dimitri’s direction. “Come on. Let’s spar.”

“You want to spar with me?” Dimitri asked, unable to contain his surprise. This whole interaction had been one unexpected turn after another. Felix’s scowl deepened.

“ _Don’t_ make me repeat myself.”

-

The march on Enbarr was only a few hours away. Dawn had not yet arrived and in the near dark Byleth was still asleep next to him, her bright hair fanned on the pillow like a halo. Dimitri did not move to rouse her. When she awoke, the preparations would begin; for now, he wanted to savour the sight of her at rest a little while longer.

How strange it was that Byleth should be by his side. Nine months ago, her hand had beckoned him in the Goddess Tower and he had turned his face away. Nine months ago, Dimitri had been walking a path to the depths of hell and he would have dragged her down with him. And yet Byleth had not abandoned him; she had walked by his side through all of it — the death, destruction, and heartache — always guiding his stumbling steps back towards the light. Dimitri had not exaggerated when he said she had saved him; it was a debt he would spend his life repaying, gladly.

The last time Dimitri had been in Fhirdiad he had sought a ring for Byleth: a silver band set with green emeralds the colour of her eyes. In the next battle, he would wear it in his breast pocket, pressed against his heart. Another thing to live for. If Dimitri lived to see the next dawn, he would ask for her hand to reach out to him once more. This time, forever.

_-_

Since the end of the war, the days had passed quickly in a blur of celebrations and making plans for the future. It had been more of the latter in Dimitri’s case, but he had no objections; staying busy kept his mind from lingering on the fact that El was truly gone. Even he and Byleth seldom had a moment to be alone until the night before the coronation. It was a meeting he had approached with both anticipation and dread, but it seemed his worries were all for nothing. Her mother’s ring was only wide enough to fit on his smallest finger, but it hardly mattered. It was proof of the promise they had exchanged, proof that wonder of wonders, Byleth _loved_ him. Without it, Dimitri might have thought it was all a dream.

They decided to share the news of their engagement with the Blue Lions first. However revealing their relationship to their companions proved anti-climatic, to say the least. Looking at the expectant faces of their gathered friends, Byleth drew a deep breath.

“Dimitri and I, we’re-”

"I knew it!" Annette exclaimed, her excitement echoing through the Knights’ Hall. She looked at their friends with unfettered glee. "Didn't I say so?"

"You knew?" Byleth asked, surprised. Dimitri had to agree; it wasn’t exactly the reaction he had been expecting, either.

"Well, we all had our suspicions. Call it a well-educated guess," Mercedes told her with a giggle.

“Yes, all those sighs and longing looks… it was like something out of a novel,” Ashe agreed, cheerfully. Dimitri winced; he hadn’t sighed _that_ much… had he?

"And Ingrid, you don't seem surprised in the slightest. Do not tell me you knew also?” Dimitri asked, frankly baffled by everyone’s reaction. Ingrid coughed with faint embarrassment.

"Yes, well, you weren't as subtle as you thought, Your Majesty. Especially when you would turn up to training with, uh, odd bruises on your neck," she said with a blush. Dimitri wished he could disappear into the floor a little at that. Meanwhile, Dedue stepped forward with a bow.

"You have my heartfelt congratulations. May your marriage be long and prosperous,” he said, serious as ever, though there was a small smile on his lips. It was enough to allow Dimitri to recover.

“Thank you, Dedue,” he told him gratefully. Felix rolled his eyes.

“How is it that I am the only one surprised by this?” He grumbled. Sylvain slung an arm around his shoulders companionably.

“Because you have no sense for romance,” Sylvain pointed out.

“Shut up.” Felix turned to face them, his sharp eyes considering. “Maybe now the boar will show some restraint with you holding his collar, Professor,” he said to Byleth, finally.

“Oh, I don’t think either of them knows the meaning of _restraint_ ,” Sylvain commented, suggestively.

“What?” Felix glared at him while Mercedes and Annette almost fell over themselves in helpless giggles. Byleth flushed, laughing despite her embarrassment, and Dimitri, well. He would make Sylvain pay for that comment next time they trained.

"Ooh, I’m so excited! It’s the first wedding among us. We’ll have to help you find a dress!” Annette was practically vibrating with excitement.

“And her make-up and hair, of course. I already have a few styles in mind. Professor, next time you have a few hours free, we could-”

“Uh oh, you had better run while you can, Professor. Mercedes says a few hours, but what she really means is something else,” Ingrid interjected.

“Well, you know times like these call for celebration. Not just for our victory, but your engagement, your impending nuptials, your future children…” Sylvain trailed off with a grin.

“Just shut up already,” Felix muttered, checking the other man with his shoulder.

“ _Ow_.”

“A feast sounds like an excellent idea," Ashe piped up. "Dedue has been teaching me Duscar cuisine and now seems as good a time as any to show you all what I’ve learned.”

“Then let us all go on ahead and make preparations at the dining hall. Your Majesty, Your Grace, we will take our leave.” Dimitri shot Dedue a grateful look as he ushered their excited companions out.

“Don’t keep us waiting!” Sylvain called out before the doors closed behind them.

“Well, that was certainly something,” Dimitri said at last. Byleth burst out laughing, long and hard, and did not stop until there were tears in her eyes. Any lingering mortification Dimitri felt was instantly dispelled by her look of delight.

“Oh, Dimitri,” she said, when her laughter had subsided, “I thought you were going to kill Sylvain.”

“That may still happen,” he responded wryly, but there was a smile on his lips. He shook his head disbelievingly. “It seems we were completely and utterly transparent to everyone except each other.”

“We made it in the end,” Byleth replied warmly. She leaned into his side, fitting perfectly under the curve of his arm. He pressed a kiss to her temple, still relishing the freedom to do so without a second thought.

“Yes, and I could not be happier,” he affirmed. “Still there is so much to discuss. Where we will be married, where we will live-” Dimitri stopped himself with a shake of his head. “I apologize for getting ahead of myself. I am simply excited. For the first time in the longest time, I am looking forward to the future because I know you will be there by my side.”

“You don’t need to apologize. I feel the same.” Byleth touched the ring on her finger, a tender look on her face. “There will be plenty of time to talk about those things and more. For tonight, let’s focus on celebrating with our friends.” 

“Then shall we go, my beloved?” Dimitri asked, teasingly. Byleth’s green eyes were sparkling with delight.

“Yes, my love, let’s.” Dimitri nodded and, buoyed by a happiness so bright he thought he might burst from it, scooped Byleth up into his arms in one smooth movement. Her peals of laughter echoed off the stone walls, following them as Dimitri carried her out of the hall and into the beautiful night.


	3. Postscript: The Blue Lions (+ Manuela)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Or, What the Blue Lions (& Manuela) Think About Their Professor and Their Future King Getting Together

Ashe watched as the Professor set off from the gardens the moment he announced His Highness’ return. Mercedes, still sitting at the table with needlework in hand, turned to him with a cheerful smile. “Ashe, won’t you sit down and join us? I don’t think the Professor will be back anytime soon.”

“Thanks, Mercedes.” Ashe sank into the vacant seat and took a biscuit from the plate she proffered gratefully. He had rushed over the moment he had heard the news, knowing full well that the Professor would want to know of it as soon as possible. Annette poured him a cup of tea with a winsome smile.

“It’s funny. I used to think the Professor was so inscrutable, but seeing her rush off to greet His Highness, she’s anything _but_ ,” Annette commented with a little laugh.

“Yes, the poor Professor. She has been looking so down while His Highness has been away," Mercedes said.

“What do you mean?” Ashe asked, puzzled. The Professor had been concerned, yes, but that was understandable; they were all concerned when it came to the future king’s safety. However, the conspiratory look on Annette’s face suggested something more.

“I'm talking about her feelings for him, of course!” Annette said as if stating the obvious. To his surprise, Mercedes nodded along in enthusiastic agreement.

“Her _feelings_?” Ashe raised his eyebrows; this was news to him. “To be honest, I didn’t think the Professor was interested in anything like that. Romantic things, I mean.” He paused, chewing on his biscuit thoughtfully. “His Highness, on the other hand... I mean, you’d have to be blind not to notice the way he looks at her.”

“Right!?” Annette exclaimed, with a burst of excitement. “They’re _pining_ for one another.”

“Oh, wouldn’t they make such a wonderful pair?” Mercedes sighed, a faraway look in her eyes. “And they would have the most _beautiful_ babies,” she gushed. That startled a laugh out of him.

“Isn’t that going a bit far, Mercedes?”

“Just you wait, Ashe. You’ll see,” she insisted brightly. Annette held up a hand.

“I swear, if they aren't engaged by the end of the war, it’s our _duty_ to intervene,” she declared, the look on her face almost scarily determined.

“I’ll help!” Mercedes chimed in, gaily. “What about you, Ashe?” He saw the expectant look on the faces of both women and caved immediately; he had no resistance to that sort of thing. Ashe sighed.

“You’re not going to give me a choice, are you?” The two women hummed in mutual agreement.

“Nope!”

-

Dimitri had promised that he had changed, but Felix didn’t trust words alone, especially not from _him_. And so he took it upon himself to watch the boar, scrutinising him for any indication that all wasn't as it seemed. Felix vowed he would stop him if there was any sign of him losing his grip and returning to that bloody madness. For good this time, if it came to that.

Over the months of his surveillance, Felix did begin to notice _something_. At first, he thought it was just his imagination, but over time there was no mistaking it: the boar was different when the Professor was around. It was subtle, a minute change in the boar’s demeanour, but it happened every time without fail.

The Professor would enter the room. The boar’s gaze would dart over to her and then away again. There would be a tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth like an involuntary smile suppressed. And then, no matter where his attention was engaged, his body would turn ever so slightly until it angled towards _her_.

For the time being, Felix kept his observations to himself. After all, even if the boar did mean the Professor harm, he knew she could more than handle him herself. She had been there during the height of his madness and emerged unscathed; more than that, she had brought him back with her.

Felix couldn’t say what it all meant exactly, but this he could say for certain: Dimitri was more a man than a beast when she was around.

-

Dedue was walking in step with Dimitri when the prince stopped him a few paces before they reached the dormitory staircase. “Dedue,” he said firmly, “you needn’t accompany me any further. I am perfectly safe to return to my room alone.”

“It is no problem, Your Highness,” Dedue responded dismissively with a shake of his head.

“...I would prefer if you didn’t,” Dimitri reiterated carefully. Dedue could sense there was a strange tension in the prince that wasn’t there a moment ago, a nervous energy that did not sit well with him.

“Why? Is something the matter?” There was a pregnant pause.

“There is no way around it, it seems,” Dimitri sighed and in the semi-darkness, Dedue could see the beginnings of a faint flush across his cheeks. “I would prefer to walk alone because I am meeting someone tonight for… a private matter." Dedue frowned.

"For your safety, it would be best if I knew whom you were meeting. If something were to happen to you…"

"You and your overprotective streak.” Dimitri covered his face with a hand and shook his head. “You need not worry. I am meeting… the Professor.” That in itself was not unusual, but as Dedue took in Dimitri’s hesitance, his awkwardness, the blush that was now in full, he came to a realisation.

“Ah, I see. Of course, I will take my leave, Your Highness,” he said with a small bow.

“Yes, and _please_ forget this conversation ever happened.” Dimitri did not meet his eyes, instead staring intently at the wall behind him. “Good night, Dedue.”

“Good night, Your Highness.” Dedue left the prince to walk back to his room alone, as requested. As Dedue returned to his own room, he thought back on their interaction and smiled to himself. Dedue had never seen anything like it in his friend before: Dimitri, not as a king burdened by responsibility, nor a soldier plagued by war, but simply a young man hopelessly in love.

-

It hadn’t been Sylvain’s intention to figure it out, but as someone who considered himself an expert in the art of rendezvous he knew the hallmarks like the back of his hand. And, well, the Professor wasn't even being very subtle. She was far too consistent in her timing, for one thing. Urgent matters to discuss with His Highness after midnight? _Every_ night? It was too much to believe. And to make matters worse, she always stayed until the morning. Sylvain knew there was only _one_ kind of business that took all night.

As much as Sylvain wanted to gossip with his fellow Blue Lions and confirm what they had all been hoping for, he decided to keep his mouth shut. He knew Dimitri wasn’t the type for casual flings, despite Sylvain’s attempts for him to consider it on more than one occasion. Whatever was going on between the Professor and his friend was probably more complicated than a standard dalliance. More than that, Dimitri deserved the opportunity to explore whatever was going on between them without the scrutiny or whispers that would surely follow.

Of course, that didn't mean he wasn't going to rib His Highness relentlessly the next chance he got. Sylvain was a loyal friend, but he wasn’t a _saint_.

-

Ingrid could see His Highness looked lighter these days. It was in the way he moved more freely and in the way his smile came more easily. Like now. Dimitri had actually _laughed_ when her desperate feint had not resulted in a point but Ingrid tripping over her lance. As embarrassed as she was, Ingrid was glad he could still smile like that. It reminded her of the Dimitri she had known as a child... before everything had gone so wrong.

“You are not hurt, Ingrid?” Dimitri asked, a teasing smile still on his lips.

“Wounded pride, nothing more,” she responded wryly.

“Nonsense. Training is for practising new techniques, after all.” Dimitri held out a hand. Ingrid gripped the proffered hand firmly and he pulled her up with little effort. Standing close to his side, her attention snagged on dark blotch poking just above the collar of his undershirt. Was it a stain? No, upon closer inspection it was on his skin, something like a bruise, but not from a training weapon surely… Oh. _Oh._ Ingrid clapped a hand over her mouth before she could say anything that would embarrass the both of them. Dimitri gave her a strange look. “Hm? What is it, Ingrid?” 

“Nothing!” She said, hastily. Fortunately, Dimitri had adjusted his clothing and the dark blotch disappeared from her view. Ingrid looked at her friend again with that new piece of information in her mind. Was _that_ part of the reason for the change in him? If so, then she was happy for him: Dimitri deserved whatever happiness could be found. Even so, there were details Ingrid would rather _not_ know regarding her childhood friend and future king.

Just _no_.

-

Manuela finished unwrapping the last of Dimitri’s bandages and checked the wound on his shoulder. Satisfied it was clean and healing well, she nodded to him. “Well, you are all clear, Your Highness. Try to avoid straining yourself for the next week or you’ll pull the stitches out and undo all my hard work.” Dimitri flexed his shoulder experimentally before giving her a deep bow.

“Thank you for your care, Professor Manuela. I feel as right as rain,” he told her, as earnest as ever. Manuela eyed him critically as he dressed himself. After months of tea time chats with Byleth, she could not help but feel protective of the other professor. A certain question had been on her mind since the end of the war and now seemed as good a time as any to ask.

"Can I speak freely with you, Your Highness? Not as your Professor, but as a friend.”

“Of course. Please speak your mind.”

“What are your plans now that the war is over? You’ll be off soon, I assume?” Dimitri nodded.

“Yes, I must return to Fhirdiad and assume the throne. There is much that needs to be done and I have put it off long enough,” he said, again very earnestly.

“And what about the Professor? Where does she factor in all this?” Manuela asked searchingly.

“Oh.” Dimitri had the good grace to look a trifle embarrassed.

“You _have_ thought about it, haven’t you?” She prompted, archly. 

“I have,” he said slowly, looking distinctly uncomfortable. Her eyes narrowed. If he was going to end things with Byleth now, after all they had been through, Manuela was going to _hit_ him, king or no.

“ _And_?” Dimitri hesitated.

“...I am going to ask her to marry me,” he said finally, a slow blush spreading across his face.

“Oh.” Manuela blinked, shocked into silence by the strong emotions rising in her chest. She had watched Byleth’s feelings grow from confusion to curiosity to desire to love and now her dearest friend was going to get _married_. Goddess, she was tearing up at the thought. Dimitri looked faintly alarmed at her reaction.

“Are you quite alright, Professor Manuela?”

“Oh my _goodness_ , yes, I’m just so happy for the both of you,” Manuela said at last, dabbing at her eyes with her sleeve. She met his eyes again, a serious expression on her face despite her teariness. “Oh, you must take care of her, you understand me? She’s _special_... there really is no one else like her.”

“I know,” Dimitri replied, a soft smile on his face. “I will devote my life to her care. If she agrees to have me, that is.” Manuela looked at him incredulously, hardly believing her ears. Surely he couldn’t think that Byleth would refuse him? Manuela took in the nervous look on his face and quietly despaired. Oh no, they were both utterly useless.

Before she could think of how to respond, the cathedral bell began to toll, drawing Dimitri’s attention. “Ah, I must be off, Professor Manuela. Byleth is waiting for me. Thank you for all your help,” Dimitri said sincerely. Manuela thought back to all the hours she and Byleth had spent talking about lust and love and everything in between and thought to herself, _you have no idea_. Instead, she waved him off with a smile on her face.

“Of course. Now run along — I know she is desperate to see you, too.” As Dimitri exited the infirmary, Manuela shook her head. She could have eased his worries by revealing how smitten Byleth was but squirming for a bit longer wouldn’t hurt him. After all, Manuela had already done all she could to bring them to this point. Declarations of love and deciding their future beyond it — that was for _them_ to figure out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's that! A little bonus chapter to round out the story, because who can get enough of the Blue Lions? Not me, that's for certain.
> 
> Thank you again for all the love and encouragement. All your thoughts and kind words have meant the world to me and I am so grateful for all of it. I hope to write more stories for everyone to enjoy, but if nothing else, this series has a very special place in my heart and I hope it does for many of you, too!
> 
> ♥ redmorningstar


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